The beeping of the waffle maker jars me out of my thoughts.The free breakfast at the hotel barely opened half an hour ago, but I was already up. After yesterday's session on communication, sleeping is ridiculously difficult to do.I can't stop thinking about what Santos said. You will never hate me more than I hate myself. I want to be happy that he's living with such tremendous guilt. This whole thing is his fault. But I can't. I had no idea he was grieving as much as I am. He's not one to show he's in any kind of pain often. Not physical pain. Not emotional pain. He's too busy being everybody's friend to be honest when his feelings are that intense.And he never, ever cries. Needless to say, seeing him weep the way he did pulled me right out of my pity party and back into the real world, full of questions about what I should do now. Do I stay? Do I go? Do I give him another chance? Do I call it quits?The only thing I know for sure is I need carbs. And sugar. And butter. And maybe s
The click of the door closing behind us sounds unusually loud compared to the silence between us. It was another hard day of therapy, and we're both emotionally spent.Anne had us all write a letter to our spouse and then read it to each other. In the letter, we had to apologize for our part in the downfall of our relationship. Then we had to outline what we're going to do different from now on, and how. The hardest part, though… the hardest part was having to write what behaviors I will and won't accept from Mari.That one pretty much stumped me. It would be one thing if she was anything other than perfect. The only thing that I could come up with is I want her to focus on herself more. Her entire life has been about giving, and I want her to allow herself to receive more. To accept compliments and believe me when I say she's beautiful. She struggles with that. She always has. And I made it substantially worse."Um, I'm gonna jump in the shower." She takes off her shoes and slips her
It's our last day at the conference, and I, for one, am relieved. The website wasn't kidding when it stated it's an intense five days. I'm almost surprised I made it through.Santos and I walk hand-in-hand into the conference room and head straight for the coffee. It was a long night.He releases me to go talk to one of his new therapy friends, and I continue to the java. Victoria, who is standing in front of the cups stirring her own liquid gold, quirks an eyebrow at me."Looks like someone had a good night. I don't think I've seen him so relaxed the entire time we've been here."I smirk. "No comment.""Ah. So does this mean you've made up your mind about what to do?"I sigh and dump some creamer into my coffee, avoiding her gaze. "Yes. Maybe. I don't know. One night of hot sex doesn't make up for anything, ya know? I just missed him. And I think I needed that connection with him again.""I get it. None of us are here because the choices are clear. But I support you no matter what. I
"OOMPH!"The sheer force of my entire body meeting the ground causes me to forget everything else outside of this moment of pain."Again!" I yell and take my position back on my knees and Daniel lobs kick after kick at me. Trying to block shots from the position is almost a guarantee that I'll end up with bruises up and down my body, but that's the point. Pain on the outside makes me forget about pain on the inside."OOOMPH! Again!""What the fuck, man?" Daniels yells back, as he sets up for another kick. "I can't pepper these at you that fast. There's no way you'll be ready. It's a waste of our time."I get in position, ignoring his concerns. "I said again!""Santos!" I look to the sidelines as Coach waves me over."Shit," I mutter under my breath, stumbling to my feet and trudging in his direction.It's been three weeks since Mariana dropped a bomb on the life I thought I was rebuilding, and obliterated it all. It goes without saying that things have been tense between us ever since.
"Don't worry. You're not the only one who is going to be a few minutes late. These elevators always take this long."I look around before realizing he's talking to me. The tall, very handsome man in a suit is talking to me."I'm sorry?" I ask like I'm completely disheveled, which I guess I am so it's not a huge stretch to come off that way."The elevators." He gestures toward the lifts. "You look nervous and keep looking at your watch. I just thought it would make you feel better to know everyone runs late. They're used to it upstairs.""Oh. Actually, that does make me feel better. Thank you." I smile at him and look back up at the indicating numbers, willing them to come down faster. "What court are you headed to?" the tall, handsome suit asks me."Um, the five-oh-seventh.""Ah." His face changes subtly. "Divorce court. You'll be fine. They schedule a bunch of cases at once. They'll never even know you're late." I can't tell if he's feeling bad for me or was initially flirting and no
"Mmmm, mmmm, mmmm."The telltale sounds that my orgasm is imminent make their way out of my throat. I look down at the red head with her hand wrapped around my cock and feel disgusted with myself, but I'm too far gone to stop now. Besides, I'm divorced now. Who's stopping me?"Get ready," I say just as the base of my spine begins to tingle. I come hard. I come long. And strangely, I feel nothing when it's over.I look down again and see a playful look in the redhead's eyes. As she begins to climb her way up my body, I know what she's going to do, and Mari's words slam into my brain."It never occurred to you that you kissed these whores on the mouth, probably right after they got done sucking someone else's dick without a condom, did it?"As the redhead goes to kiss me, I turn away.She pulls back. "What's wrong?""Nothing."She pulls back even more to look at me. "Did I do something wrong?""Besides blowing some douchebag you just met that you'll probably never see again?"Her eyes wi
Dishes. Laundry. Diapers. Ugh. The chores are never ending. Today, it's grating on my nerves more than normal and I have no idea why.I've been a stay-at-home mom since Myra was born, and I was a stay-at-home wife before that. So none of this is new.But in some ways, it's all new.I knew when I left Santos life would change, but I think how much it changed is kind of jarring. I knew my life was wrapped up in Santos's job, but I don't think I ever knew how much until it was all gone.Not only do I not go to weekly games most of the year anymore, I don't get invited out by my friends either. I understand why… it's hard to include someone who is no longer part of the Mutiny family. What could I possibly contribute to party planning? I won't be invited to any of the family events. Won't watch the babies I've snuggled grow up. I won't be part of the celebrations. I won't be part of the losses. And how could I be? How would they be able to include Santos's next wife, assuming he were to ge
"Hey, how ya doing, Santos?""I'm doing okay, thanks."Shaking my therapist's hand, a genuine smile crosses my face. I've been seeing Justin for a couple of weeks now, and therapy hasn't been at all like I thought it would be.I envisioned a stuffy old man making me lay on a couch while he holds a clipboard and asks me about my mother. Justin, however, is anything but a stuffy old man. Just a couple years older than me, he comes to work wearing jeans and sneakers. He's got scruff on his face and doesn't even have a desk to sit behind. His office looks more like a living room with a couch and a couple recliners. The only indication it's a therapy office at all is the bookshelf full of reference material.We talk for a few minutes about my latest game and what the chances are we'll win the title this year. Turns out Justin isn't a fan of soccer, but he's been to an occasional game. Most people in Houston have, even if it's just to say they've gone.Quickly, the conversation turns to Mari